The Pain of Living
by ChokolateKiss
Summary: I decided to write my version of what happens in season 9 during and after the last episode, 9x09. Please note that this is a Dean and Castiel story but also includes Sam as I love all three characters. Rated T for some violence and thoughts of death/suicide. Reviews are always welcome :)
1. Preface

Hi everyone who reads this. I just wanted to write a bit about myself and Supernatural first before getting to the story.

So the show is now in its 9th season as you know and up until a few months ago, I didn't even care that it existed. My sister would talk about it all the time, telling me what a great show it was and how much she loved the brothers. But I figured as I'd already missed so much of the show, it would be too difficult to try and catch up.

Then this past summer, I was out shopping one day and I saw the season 4 dvd on sale super cheap. Since my sister wouldn't stop talking about it, I figured I'd buy the dvd and see what all the fuss was about. I work full time in Accounting and the stress of work sometimes leaks over even after I go home so finding free time to watch a full season was difficult. It took another couple weeks before I finally found the time, sat down with my laptop and pressed play. The first episode was Lazarus Rising and the first scene was Dean being resurrected and digging his way out of his grave. After the intro logo, I pressed pause, went back to the beginning and watched the scene again. It literally took all of two minutes and I was hooked. I watched a few more minutes and saw Dean and Bobby's reunion before stopping altogether. It didn't feel right. I needed to watch this from the beginning.

Long story short, I bought every other season and as hard as it was with a full time job and other responsibilities, I got through the entire series before season 9 started and I loved it! I loved every episode, every character and every story. Were some seasons (2, 4 and 5) better than others (7 and 8)? Of course but that's only natural when you have a show that's been on air for so long.

Without a doubt, Dean's my favourite character. The weight of responsibility that has been on his shoulders since he was a little boy is so tragic but makes for great storytelling. He's literally been to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory and somehow he's still standing. Do I feel that sometimes the storylines are in favour of Sam over Dean? Sadly, yes, but I love Sam too so I guess in the end it's okay. I also love Castiel. None of these characters are perfect and have all made many mistakes but they'd die for each other in an instant and a love that runs so deep, whether family or friendship, is not something you see every day.

I decided to write my version of what happens during season 9 during and after the last episode. Please note that I am a fan of Dean & Castiel and although it may never happen on the show, I feel the profound bond (sorry, I couldn't resist) that they share has been beautifully written so far. They've had ups and downs but like Sam, Castiel is now a part of Dean's family. But this story is not just a Destiel fic; it's a story about Dean, Sam & Cas.

Please also note that if some of the mythology has been changed from what was written on the show, it's just my thoughts going on paper and me not fully remembering all the details. In this story, after the Angels fell from Heaven, Cas remained an Angel. He still has his grace but it's slowly leaving him bit by bit. He can still fly and do certain things, but he can no longer heal and he's slowly becoming human day by day. Also, Dean never told Cas to leave the bunker.

This story takes place during episode 9x09 (some spoilers for those who have not watched it yet).

I hope you enjoy. Please be nice :)


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

ONE

Walking through the hallway with his cell phone in his hand, Dean stopped when he passed his bedroom and walked in. Looking around the room, a wry smile formed on his lips. In all the years that he and Sam had been hunting and even the years before that when he was a child, all he remembered was dirty motel rooms. The last time he had an actual home or bedroom was when he was a small child, before his mother was killed.

Sighing, he turned his face towards the photo sitting on his night stand. Walking forward, he lifted it gently and stared down at the worn out photo in his hand. It was a snapshot of his mother holding him as a small child, four years of age, before everything had changed. He could never forget that night, not even after thirty years. He remembered seeing smoke and his father running towards him, pushing his baby brother Sam in his arms and shouting at him to go outside. Holding little Sammy tightly, he had ran down the stairs and out onto the yard, stopping to face his home only when he was a safe distance away. All he saw was fire.

After that night, after his mother had been killed by Yellow Eyes, his father was never the same. Gone was the gentle soul who loved his wife and kids. What remained was a broken man who only cared about one thing: vengeance. After going back in time to try and stop Anna from killing his parents, Dean had learned that his mother, although from a family of hunters, never wanted this life for her children. The irony was that in the end, it was her death that forced them into it.

Their father would drag them around from town to town, trading one motel for another, leaving Dean in charge of Sam while he disappeared on one of his hunts. With John as the only parent he had left, Dean had followed his father's orders and demands, desperately trying to please him. He never revealed how hard it was, taking care of his younger brother when he, himself, was just a little kid. He took the responsibility forced on his shoulders with a smile and did the best he can. All he wanted was for Sammy to have a normal childhood and be okay.

When compared, although Sam changed schools all the time like his older brother and lived the same empty existence, his childhood was still fairly better than Dean's. While Sam was still playing with action figures when he was seven, Dean remembers his father teaching him how to shoot a gun at that same age. Sometimes, late at night when Sam was fast asleep, leaving Dean alone to his thoughts, he resented his brother just a bit. Through the years, Sam complained about the life they led, especially when he was older and had begun helping Dean and their father on the hunts. But he never fully realized that as bad as his childhood had been, Dean's had been much worse. He'd tried giving Sam as normal a childhood as he could under the circumstances. But in comparison, Dean's own childhood had ended the night his mother died. From then on, he was no longer allowed to have his innocence.

Gazing down at the photo, he smiled warmly at the thought of his mother before placing it back down gently in its place. Turning his gaze over to his closet, he smiled at the old leather jacket peeking through. It was the jacket that had belonged to his father, one he had passed on to Dean along with the Impala when he was of age. His smile slowly faded when he thought of his father. As much as he loved and missed the man, he also hated him just the same. He hated his father for making him grow up so quickly and for opening his eyes to a world of darkness and misery when he was just a small child. But more than anything, he hated his father for sacrificing himself to save him, leaving Dean with a heavy burden of guilt that never faded away.

Thinking back to those days after John had been killed by Yellow Eyes, he remembered how lost and angry he had been. Then he turned around a year later and did the same thing for Sam. He always found it both funny and tragic. Some parents passed down holiday traditions and recipes to their children. In the Winchester family, sacrificing yourself for your loved ones was the tradition they all shared.

All of a sudden, Dean remembered that day when Jake had rammed a knife through Sam's spine. He remembered running to Sam and holding him tightly, only to watch him take his last breath and die in Dean's arms. No other moment had ever shaken him like Sam's death had. He loved his brother more than anything and never once did he regret the deal he made. Going to Hell, all those years of torture and the psychological damage he suffered once he was resurrected; it was all worth it.

His train of thought brought him back to the present and the situation he now found himself in. He hated lying to Sam but Ezekiel was healing him from the damage of the Trials and although Dean knew Sam would hate him once the truth finally emerged, at least Sammy would be alive and safe. That's all that ever matted to Dean. He had been Sam's mother, father and brother all these years and if faced with the same choices, right or wrong, he would do it all again.

Sighing softly, he left his room and made his way towards the kitchen, walking inside just as Kevin was leaving.

"Hey, where's Sam?" he asked, turning to face the young prophet.

"He went out," Kevin replied, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Where?"

"I don't know. Have you noticed he's doing that a lot?" Kevin replied before shrugging and walking down the hall.

Before his mind could go over Kevin's words, his cell phone rang and he quickly answered it.

_"Dean, I don't have a lot of time so listen,"_ Castiel's voice sounded through the phone.

A wave of comfort moved through Dean's body at the sound of his friend's voice. Despite all the anger and pain between them, Cas had become one of the only people Dean truly trusted. After Metatron's betrayal and the fall of all the Angels from Heaven, Cas had been invited into the bunker by Sam and Dean. The Angel's grace was leaving him bit by bit every day but having him around whether as an Angel or ultimately the human he was slowly becoming brought Dean a comfort that he couldn't explain.

_"The leader of the opposition is an Angel named Malachi,"_ Cas continued.

"How do you know that?"

_"He had me. I was tortured,"_ Cas replied quietly.

"Tortured?" Dean snapped into the phone. "Cas, what happened? Are you alright?"

_"I got away."_

"Cas, where are you?" Dean demanded into the phone.

_"It's better if I stay away. They're going to want me even more now."_

"Cas, get over here right now. I don't care if the target on your back just got renewed. Get your ass back to the bunker, now."

_"Dean…,"_ Cas tried to reason.

"No buts, Cas. I mean it. Get back here now."

Sighing into the phone, the Angel quietly nodded on the other end.

_"My powers were drained. It will take me a while to recharge and come back,,"_ he explained, cutting the hunter off before he could speak. _"Dean, there's more. Didn't you say that Sam was healed by an Angel named Ezekiel?"_

"Yeah, why?" Dean replied with a frown, not liking the sudden change in Castiel's tone.

_"Ezekiel's dead."_

The words hung between them for a moment as Dean blinked through his surprise.

"What?"

_"He died when the Angels fell."_

Dean took another moment to let the words sink in, feeling his heartbeat quicken in his chest.

"Cas, I need you to get back here. Please."

_"I will be there as soon as I can."_

As they both ended the conversation, Dean stared down at the ground in confusion.

_If Ezekiel was dead, who the hell was inside Sam?_ the question rang through his mind.

Quickly leaving the kitchen, he practically ran the rest of the way to the common room, where Kevin was resting his head on his arms, the Angel Tablet beside him.

"Kevin!" he announced, his voice causing the young prophet to jump up in his seat. "I need a spell, ASAP."

"Everyone always needs a spell and it's always ASAP."

"Listen to me. An Angel can't be expelled by another human, just by the host, right? But what if there was a way to power down the Angel so he wasn't in charge for a few minutes."

"What?" Kevin asked, his confusion evident.

"For instance, if I wanted to speak with the vessel without the Angel listening in. If I wanted to clue the human in so that he could spit the Angel out. That would be a good thing, right?"

"Yeah?" Kevin said, his answer more of a question.

"Okay, so hit the tablet. Let's go."

"Now?" Kevin groaned.

"Yesterday, Cinderella!" Dean replied before making his way back down the hall.

Stopping in Sam's bedroom, he stared around the room for a long time, unsure how many minutes had passed as he simply stood there. In trying to save his brother's life, he had inadvertently placed him in more danger. Before long, Kevin dragged him back to a storage room and both men had painted symbols on the walls. As Kevin was finishing up, Dean left for a few minutes before meeting the young prophet back in the common room.

"Alright, so this masterpiece that we just painted, it's going to work, right?" Dean asked, his voice on edge.

"The sigils are supposed to briefly hobble the possessing Angel. As soon as your blood touches the ignition sigil, the spell kicks in," Kevin explained before sighing. "Dean, what's going on?"

"I told you."

"You told me theoretically," Kevin pointed out. "Dean, we just painted sigils in the storage room. What the hell?"

"You're going to have to trust me and trust that I've told you everything that I can for now," Dean replied. "Can you do that?"

"I always trust you," Kevin said simply. "And I always end up screwed."

"Oh come on, always? Not always," Dean said with a small smile before a sound coming from the kitchen captured his attention. "Just stay here."

Leaving the young prophet, Dean made his way to the kitchen to see Sam placing the groceries into the fridge.

"Hey, can we talk?" Dean asked as Sam closed the door and turned to face him.

"Sure," he said with a nod.

"Not here. Come on."

Leading the way, Dean walked down the hall and into the storage room, waiting until Sam had followed him inside before closing the door behind them. Removing his pocket knife, he quickly made a cut on his left palm and slammed his hand against a sigil on the wall, the noise causing Sam to turn around and face him.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" Sam asked, taking a step back as Dean walked closer towards him and placed the knife back in his pocket.

"I have to tell you some stuff fast. It's going to piss you off," Dean began before taking a deep breath.

"Okay," Sam said, unsure where this was heading.

"Those trials really messed you up."

"Yes, I know that Dean," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

"No you don't," Dean replied, the urgency in his voice stopping Sam. "I mean, messed you up like almost dead. No more birthdays, dust to dust. Well, that messed me up and I made a move, okay? A tough move about you without talking it over because you were in a coma."

"Wait, what? When?" Sam asked, a worried frown covering his face.

"You were in the hospital and they said you were going to die."

"Dean, what did you do?" Sam demanded.

"I let an Angel in," Dean said after a moment, the tears already threatening to form as he watched Sam take a step back.

"In what?"

"In you," he said, releasing a shaky breath. "He said he could heal you and he still is."

"He's still in me?" Sam snapped. "Wait, that's impossible Dean. That could never happen. I never invited him in."

"I tricked you into saying yes. It seemed like the only way," Dean replied, the strength in his voice returning.

Sam turned around for a moment, scoffing incredulously before facing his brother.

"So again, you thought I couldn't handle something so you took over!"

"I did what I had to do!" Dean snapped back. "You would have never agreed to it and you would have died!"

"Well, may be I would have liked the choice at least!"

"Look, we can do this later. You can kick my ass all you want but right now we got bigger problems."

"Bigger?" Sam asked with another scoff.

"The Angel lied to me, okay?" Dean explained, hating the words coming out of his mouth and hating how easily he had been betrayed. "He's not who he said he was. He said his name was Ezekiel. Cool guy, according to Cas, but it's _not_ Ezekiel."

"Who is he?" Sam asked, the fear in his voice apparent.

"I don't know. Apparently, Ezekiel is dead. Whoever this guy is can end you in a heartbeat if he wants so you have got to dump him!"

Sam stared at the ground for a moment, his breath coming out in short pants.

"Are you listening? You have to expel him!" Dean exclaimed.

Without looking up, Sam moved past his brother and towards the door.

"Sam?" Dean asked, turning to follow him.

Catching Dean by surprise, Sam swung his left fist and punched his brother in the jaw, sending Dean to the floor in a heap. As Dean groaned from the hit, Sam turned on his heels, opened the door and jogged back to the common room, stopping when he saw Kevin standing at the table, going through his notes with the tablet a few inches away.

"Hey Sam," Kevin greeted him, glancing up at the younger Winchester as Sam closed the distance between them. "Have you noticed anything weird about Dean lately? Between you and me, I'm a little worried about him."

"Don't worry about Dean," Sam replied, his voice oddly calm.

As Dean stumbled into the room, he looked up and his eyes met Kevin's. Before either could speak, Sam reached out and placed his hand on the prophet's forehead, causing a bright light to appear behind them.

"No! Kevin!" Dean shouted as he ran forward.

Sam easily pushed his brother against the wall with a flick of his hand, holding him there frozen as he burned the life out of a screaming Kevin.

"No!" Dean cried, struggling to free himself from the invisible grip.

When Sam lowered his hand from the Prophet, Dean watched helplessly as Kevin's corpse fell to the floor with a loud thump. Staring at the body in shock, he slowly lifted his stunned gaze to his brother.

"Sam?" he cried out.

"There is no more Sam," Gadreel replied, his voice calm. "But I played him convincingly, I thought."

"How did you…?" Dean choked on the words, the invisible grip tightening around his neck.

"I heard you talking with Kevin tonight," Gadreel replied before lifting his hand to show the paint marks on his fingers. "Alter a sigil, even a little, and you alter the spell."

Dean shut his eyes tight and pressed his head against the wall, feeling the tears begin to form.

"I'm sorry about Kevin," Gadreel explained, feeling sympathy for the human before him. "But ultimately, it was for the best."

"Cas," Dean whispered, finding it harder and harder to speak. "Please, Cas."

"I did what I had to," Gadreel continued, not having heard Dean's prayer.

Leaning down, the Angel removed a small card from his pocket, the one that Metatron had given him. Revealing Kevin's name written on the card, he kneeled down and placed the card onto Kevin's dead body. Standing back up, Gadreel placed the tablet in his bag and turned his gaze towards Dean, staring at him for a moment. The hunter simply stared at Kevin's body, tears slipping down his cheeks in silence.

"I'm sorry," Gadreel repeated before waving his hand, the move causing Dean to be released from the grip.

As Dean coughed heavily on the ground, Gadreel walked past him towards the stairs.

"Kevin?" Dean choked out, staring at the dead prophet. "Kevin!"

When the young man didn't move, Dean jumped to his feet and ran after the Angel.

"Hey! Whoever the hell you are!" Dean shouted as Gadreel turned around at the end of the common room and faced him.

"I do not wish to hurt you Dean."

"There's one thing you don't know," Dean said, barely unable to contain his boiling anger.

Before Gadreel could speak, Dean cut his other palm with his pocket knife, angrily removed a frame from the wall and slammed his hand down on another sigil, causing another bright light to appear.

"I was prepared," Dean sneered as the Angel's eyes widened.

Taking a step forward, he stared at the Angel as he struggled to move from the spot he was frozen in.

"Sam?" Dean asked, the name making Gadreel whip his gaze back in the hunter's direction.

"I told you. Sam is _gone_."

"I don't think he is," Dean sneered at the Angel before his voice grew gentler. "Sammy, I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. We don't have too much time. I need you to be strong and I need you to push this bastard out of you!"

Gadreel breathed heavily as he stared at Dean, fear flickering in his eyes.

"Sammy, come on! You took hold of Lucifer and forced him out! Do you remember that!" Dean continued, his voice starting to crack. "This douche is nothing compared to the Devil and you forced _him_ out! I need you to listen to my voice and do it again."

Feeling the strength of the spell slowly lessening, Gadreel moved a step back.

"Sammy, please!" Dean begged, his voice coming out in a desperate cry. "After everything we've been through and everything we've seen, don't let this bastard be the end! You're strong, Sam. You always have been. I need you to be strong again and force him out!"

When nothing happened, a small smile appeared on Gadreel's face as he slowly lifted his hand.

"I did not wish to hurt you," he began.

As Dean watched helplessly, Gadreel lifted his arm to reach his gaze. Before he could flick his hand, his head snapped back and his mouth widened. A scream echoed through the air as Gadreel was pushed out of the body, stumbling back in the same vessel that Ezekiel had been in. Dean watched in stunned silence as Sam's limp figure fell to the ground before his eyes snapped open to the scene before him.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered after a moment.

Before either could speak, Cas suddenly appeared beside Dean and moved to stand in front of the two humans. He and Gadreel shared a threatening glare before the other Angel disappeared in a flutter of wings. Staring at the place the Angel had just been, Dean slowly lowered his gaze to his brother.

"Sammy?" he tried again, reaching out to pull him to his feet.

Sam slowly nodded before anger appeared on his face.

"Don't touch me," he warned, taking a step back.

"What happened?" Cas demanded, staring between the two brothers.

Lowering his gaze, Dean suddenly remembered the dead body in the other room. Running past them, he fell to his knees beside Kevin and pulled his body into his arms. Biting his quivering lower lip, Dean shut his eyes tight to stop the tears from falling.


	3. Chapter 2

**Jdluvva**: I guess I always try to remember Sam's better days (especially seasons 2 and 3) when the writers go out of their way to make him appear selfish. I'll admit that I, too, haven't quite forgiven Sam for not trying to find Dean in Purgatory but re-watching episodes like Mystery Spot remind me why I loved Sam, especially in he beginning. I guess the writers do what you depicted with Dean to show Sam as the stronger brother so they can have him swoop in and be the hero….sigh….what can you do? I love the show but it has its faults! But one thing that never has to change in my eyes is Dean….he's perfect as is :) p.s. I loved Fringe too!

**** Please review ****

TWO

Walking through the main doors of the bunker, Dean threw the shovel angrily against the wall before making his way down the stairs, followed quietly by Sam and Castiel. Stopping at the common room, Dean made a beeline for the alcohol stand and grabbed the first whisky he could find, not bothering to use a glass and instead drinking directly from the bottle.

"Dean," Sam began impatiently. "We need to talk about what happened."

"And what happened, Sammy?" Dean asked, trying to appear irritated as he faced his younger brother but his voice sounded tired instead.

"About Gadreel or whatever his name is!" Sam exclaimed. "Angels can't possess you unless you let them in. How did he possess me?"

"Sam, I don't want to talk about this right now," Dean groaned, talking a long sip from his drink and ignoring the piercing gaze from Castiel.

"Dean…," Sam tried again.

"Damn it, Sammy! We just buried Kevin!" Dean shouted, his tone angrier than he had intended. "Can we just mourn him for a damn minute?"

Sam looked away quietly and Dean used the opportunity to walk out of the room. Watching Dean make his way towards the garage, Castiel felt a familiar ache in his chest. Turning only once Dean was completely gone from view, he stopped when he noticed Sam watching him closely.

"How are you feeling, Sam?" he asked, following the younger Winchester to sit across from him at the common room table.

"I don't know," he replied with a sigh. "I mean, an Angel possessed me and I didn't even know. _Dean_ didn't even know."

Sighing in frustration, he leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his long hair.

"And now Kevin's dead," he continued, shaking his head. "Ezekiel or Gadreel or whoever killed him while in me and I didn't even know."

"We'll find him," Castiel tried his best to sound reassuring.

When Sam made no reply, the Angel tilted his head towards the garage as a new wave of sadness hit him.

"I wish…," he began, staring at the empty space Dean had occupied a few moments ago and oblivious to Sam's watchful eye. "I wish there was something I could do to ease his pain."

Suddenly realizing what he had said, Castiel turned his attention back towards Sam as a blush crept across his cheeks in a very human manner.

"Ease _both_ of your pains."

Sam nodded knowingly as a small smile formed on his lips.

"How do _you_ feel, Cas?"

Castiel frowned slightly, considering his answer before replying. "There are strange feelings that I did not have before."

"Well, now that you're slowly becoming human, your emotions and feelings must be intensifying," Sam finished for him.

Castiel averted his gaze to the creases in the floor, trying hard to maintain his stoic expression.

"I mean, as an Angel, you were able to ignore all these emotions your feeling now. Angels weren't meant to feel, only obey," Sam continued his analysis as Castiel kept his gaze down. "But then you met Dean and everything changed."

The Angel's eyes shot up at the hunter's name as Sam's smile softened.

"You saved him from Hell, following Heaven's command as any soldier would. But the more time you spent with him, the more you started to doubt things; the more you started to respect him and humanity. He became your first true friend."

"Yes," Castiel admitted quietly.

"Now that you're slowly becoming human, these feelings can't be ignored anymore, can they?"

Castiel's emotionless face began to crumble as he gazed down at his hands on his lap.

"Do you like Dean, Cas?" raising one of the questions he long wanted to ask.

"Of course I do," Castiel replied simply.

"No Cas," Sam corrected as their eyes met. "Do you _like_ him?"

Another unwanted blush spread across the Angel's cheeks as he quickly looked away. They remained silent for a few seconds as Sam leaned back in his seat, half pleased at himself for guessing correctly all these years and half surprised that his suspicions had not been denied.

"It does not matter," Castiel finally spoke and looked up to meet Sam's confused face. "He does not feel the same."

"How do you know? Have you told him how you feel? Have you seen his reaction?"

"No and I won't," Castiel replied, the strength returning to his voice. "I know how he will react."

"No, you don't!" Sam argued. "I mean, I'll be the first one to admit that killing a Werewolf or a Wendigo is easier than getting Dean to talk about his feelings or what's going on in his head but you never know, Cas. He might surprise you."

"Sam…," Castiel warned.

"I know he cares about you, Cas," Sam cut him off. "Why do you think your deal with Crowley hurt him as much as it did, more than the rest of us? Why do you think it took him so long to forgive you for destroying my wall when I forgave you long before? I mean, hell, it was _my_ head!"

Castiel seemed to contemplate the words for a moment before shaking his head.

"He sees me as a friend, as family. He said so himself," Castiel replied and spoke again before Sam could argue. "As long as I have known Dean, he has been interested in females. In case you have not noticed all these years, I am in a male body."

"You're a celestial being, Cas!"

"Yes and I am becoming more and more human every day. Soon, I will only be _this_," Castiel exclaimed, motioning his body. "I will not jeopardize my friendship with Dean for any reason. We have been through much, he and I, and I am grateful that he still considers me a friend after everything I did. Please leave it alone."

Sighing softly, Sam nodded in defeat.

"Now, we have much more important issues at hand," Castiel said, rising to his feet and ending the conversation. "I will find Dean. There is much we need to prepare for."

Pulling away from the table, he felt Sam's eyes on him as he walked away. Dragging his feet slowly towards the garage, Castiel repeated Sam's words in his mind, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

_Why do you think your deal with Crowley hurt him as much as it did, more than the rest of us? Why do you think it took him so long to forgive you for destroying my wall when I forgave you long before?_

As much as he craved to believe what Sam had said, his brain told him to put aside such thoughts. What he wanted and what was real were two very different things.

Stepping through the door to the garage, he looked up to see Dean leaning against the side of the Impala, his shoulders slumped forward and his eyes cast down at his feet. The half empty bottle of whisky was on the ground by his feet, long forgotten. Sighing softly, Castiel made his way forward and took his spot beside Dean, standing so close that their arms were almost touching.

Sensing a presence beside him, Dean blinked through his daze and looked up at the Angel, the move causing a single tear to stream down his own face. Angrily wiping it away, he faced the wall ahead of them as Castiel stared at the side of his face, feeling completely helpless and heartbroken for the man before him.

"Dean," he tried, but the hunter shook his head, wordlessly pleading with him to stay silent.

Castiel could count on one hand the amount of times Dean had lowered his walls and had been vulnerable around him. The tough façade he fronted to the watching world was the mask he always wore. But in those rare moments of vulnerability, like the one they were sharing just then, Castiel was able to get a glimpse of the man Dean Winchester truly was and in the Angel's eyes, he was simply beautiful.

Feeling a sudden urge to reach out and touch the man beside him, Castiel felt the throbbing in his chest grow. Seeing Dean in so much sorrow made the Angel feel the same pain. His heart and his body and his mind _ached_ for Dean. Reaching forward nervously, he placed his hand on the nape of Dean's neck, just above his collar. When the hunter made no protest, Castiel boldly guided Dean's head towards him. Resting Dean's forehead against his own shoulder, Castiel buried his fingers in the hunter's short hair. Using his other arm, he wrapped it around Dean's waist, holding him tightly against his own body. With his heart pounding loudly in his chest, Castiel closed his eyes and released a shaky breath.

Under normal circumstances, Dean would have pushed Castiel away and reminded him about his issues with personal space. He would have cringed at the 'chick flick' moment they were sharing but Dean couldn't bring himself to care. He ignored the voices in his head telling him how wrong it was for Castiel to be holding him so closely and instead listened to his broken heart and body, telling him it was right.

Watching them quietly, Sam smiled and eased away from the garage. Allowing them some privacy, he made his way back to the common room when a sudden sharp pain in his head made him grip the table tightly.

"_I let the Angel in,"_ Dean's voice echoed in his mind. _"He said he could heal you and he still is. I tricked you into saying yes. It seemed like the only way."_

In the garage, Dean slowly pulled away from his Angel and looked at him. _His Angel?_ His mind asked absently as he shook those thoughts away.

"Did he hurt you badly?" he suddenly asked, his question making Castiel frown.

"Who?"

"That Angel Malachi. You said he tortured you," Dean reminded him, wiping the remainder of tears from his face.

"Oh," Castiel said, looking away. "He did not hurt anything that won't heal."

"Cas…," Dean began as the Angel turned to face him.

Before either could speak, a loud crashing noise came from the common room. Jumping to his feet, Dean all but ran out of the garage, Castiel hot on his heels.

"Sammy?" he demanded, entering the room and stopping when he saw his brother breathing heavily, holding onto the table for support. "What happened?"

"You did this!" Sam suddenly sneered.

"What are you talking about? Did what?" Dean asked, confused.

"Gadreel!"

Dean's eyes widened slightly as Castiel stared between them.

"I…how…?" Dean stumbled through his words.

"I remembered," Sam replied and stood up straight, his fists shaking angrily at his sides. "I remember the conversation you had with him earlier when you thought it was me. I remember _everything_ you said."

"Sammy," Dean began, his voice breaking.

"Don't!" Sam shouted, his rage freezing Dean in his spot a few feet away.

"I don't understand. What do you remember?" Castiel asked, moving to stand between the two brothers.

I remember what he said he did," Sam barked, pointed a finger towards Dean. "He lied to me! He manipulated me into saying yes so an Angel could possess me!"

"What?" Castiel asked with a frown, his eyes darting back to the man he had been holding just minutes before.

"You were dying, Sammy," Dean whispered.

"It was _my_ choice! After everything that happened with Lucifer, you went and took that choice away from me!"

"Sam, you were in a coma and you were _dying_," Dean cried out. "I was in a bad place. I was desperate and I didn't know what else to do."

"It was _my_ choice, Dean," Sam spat at his brother.

"You wouldn't have said yes, Sam," Dean said sadly, his green eyes shining as new tears formed in his eyes. "I have buried so many people, Sammy. I couldn't bury you."

Castiel's heart shattered once more at Dean's words, unable to ignore the ache in his chest any longer.

"And now, because of you, because of what you did, Kevin's dead," Sam said, his voice cold as ice. "Kevin's dead and it's your fault. Everything is always _your_ fault."

"Sam," Castiel tried to cut in, unable to handle the wrecked look in Dean's eyes but the younger hunter ignored him.

"You're always so quick to throw my choices in my face. Well, what about _your_ choices? How many people died because of _you_, Dean?" Sam snapped, his words making Dean take a small step back. "Ever since that night you came to Stanford and convinced me to go with you, how many people have died? Jess? Jo? Ellen? Ash? Kevin? _Bobby?_"

"Sam, that's enough," Castiel warned, seeing Dean withdraw further as the words sank in.

"What about _dad_ Dean? He died saving _you_!"

"Sammy…," Dean tried, his lower lip quivering.

"Everyone gets hurt or dies because of _you_, Dean, not me!" Sam continued, his anger refusing to allow him to stop. "The apocalypse started because of you! You're the one that broke in Hell, remember? Dad lasted a hundred years but you broke in thirty!"

Dean shut his eyes, his mind going back to his time in Hell and he shuddered against his will when he _remembered_.

"I wouldn't have had to sacrifice myself if you hadn't broken the first seal! Cas wouldn't have had to deal with a civil war in Heaven which led to his deal with Crowley which led to the Leviathans which led to Bobby dying! Everything that happened was a chain reaction to you breaking in Hell!"

"Sam, stop it!" Castiel growled but Sam was too far gone in his rage to listen.

Slowly opening his eyes, Dean recognized the hate he saw in his brother's eyes and the realization tore him in half.

"Why did you save him?" Sam suddenly asked, turning to face the Angel.

Castiel's eyes widened at the words.

"Why couldn't you just let him stay there?" he said, his anger replaced by bitterness as he faced Dean once more. "I wish you had never come back from Hell."

"Sam!" Castiel exclaimed and quickly turned to Dean but the damage had already been done.

The look on Dean's face tore Castiel piece by piece.

"I'll go," Dean whispered, nodding absently as he stared at the floor.

Castiel came to approach him but Dean held his hand up to stop him.

"I'll go," he repeated, stumbling out of the room in shock.

Castiel watched him go sadly before facing Sam, his anger surfacing.

"What is wrong with you?"

"_He_ betrayed _me_!" the younger hunter growled.

"What you said…how could you say that to him, Sam?" Castiel asked, a mixture of anger and disappointment in his voice.

"You're not going with him," Sam suddenly exclaimed.

Castiel slowly narrowed his eyes. "You may not care right now what happens to Dean but once you have settled down, you will."

"Don't count on it," Sam bit back. "I don't care anymore. He's dead to me."

Shaking his head angrily, Castiel sighed. "That may be but I still care. I will not allow Dean to leave here on his own, not in the condition he is in."

"_His_ condition?" the younger Winchester asked with a bitter laugh.

"He's broken, Sam! Can you honestly not see that?"

'I don't care," Sam replied. "If you go with him, I'll tell him what you told me earlier. He doesn't deserve either of us, Cas. But if you leave, so help me, I will tell him everything. I will tell him all about your _feelings_. Do you really want to see his disgusted reaction to that?"

"Sam…," Castiel began, surprised by the threat but unable to form any other words.

Stepping inside his room, Dean slowly glanced around himself at the first bedroom he had since he was a small child. Lowering his gaze, he began removing his few clothes from his closet and stuffing them slowly into his duffel bag. Gathering his weapons from their spot on the wall, he placed them on top of his clothes and closed the bag. Tossing the strap over his shoulder, he came to leave the room but stopped at his night stand. Glancing down, he lifted the photo of him and his mother with a shaky hand. Staring at the photo for a long moment, he quietly paced it in his pocket and walked out.

Stopping in the common room, he stared at Sam's silent form. When Sam refused to look his way, Dean nodded absently and turned his gaze to the second most important being in his life. The two held their gaze for a long moment, staring deep into one another's grace and soul. When Castiel made no effort to follow, Dean realized that he was truly alone. Lowering his hurt eyes, he made his way towards the garage as a heartbroken Castiel watched him go. When the loud roar of the Impala disappeared from their ears, Castiel slowly closed his eyes.

Pulling away from the bunker, Dean's lips began to quiver once more as another single tear streamed down his cheek. Rolling down his window, he took a final glance at his phone before tossing it out onto the pavement. Stepping on the gas, he sped away as fast as he could, not once bringing his eyes to glance into the rear view mirror to see everything he was leaving behind.


End file.
